French Summer
Before moving to Paris I thought that there was nothing better than a New York City summer. That time of year when the snow melts and NYC wakes up is electrifying. It feels like anything is possible and you never know where a summer night may take you. It could start on the stoop of your friend’s apartment in Fort Greene sipping on wine and then smoothly transition into dancing to afrobeats at that neighborhood spot your friends have been talking about since the previous summer and end with a sunrise motorcycle ride on the West Side Highway, you literally never know. And when it comes to the people, the city and its inhabitants are bursting with sensuality. The fewer clothes the better. The air is thick and ripe, waiting for that intense summer romance. Inviting the stolen glance that you catch across a crowded hot subway as the sweat is dripping off of your face. The almost constant block parties evoke a sense that the entire city is just one big party and the impromptu BBQs make it feel like it’s thanksgiving every weekend.
I didn’t think that I could ever experience a similar summer anywhere else until this summer in Paris.
Where the New York City summer energy is raw, intense, and ,more often than not, chaotic the Paris summer energy, c’est plus doux (it’s sweeter). C’est le moment de prendre un petite pause (take a little break), c’est le moment de profiter de la douceur de la vie (it’s the time to enjoy the sweetness of life). All that talk of sweetness, relaxing, and taking it slow reminded me of the subtle sensuality that is at the core and center of everything Parisian, and one could argue, French.
The unexpected happens here as well, but it comes from a place of deep desire to stay where you are and enjoy the moment. Live in the moment and soak up the pleasure. It’s not about being seen at all the hot spots or having the craziest story to tell the next day. The pink and purple cotton-candied skies that stay light until 10:00 in the evening, sometimes even pushing 10:30pm keep you outside on the sidewalk cafes and restaurants terrasses until well past midnight. The conversation just keeps going, no one wants to move or go home.
The flock of Parisians en terrasse in the afternoon all facing the direction of the sun, like thirsty sunflowers, make you pause and think “shit, I should be doing the same thing”. So you sit down and join them and enjoy the splendor of having the sun caress your face. And you’re not worried about where you should be or what you should be doing. You’re exactly where you should be and doing exactly what you should be doing. Just enjoying life.
There are the impromptu live jazz concerts at restaurants that turn the sidewalks into dancefloors. French kids whiz by you on their trotinettes (scooters) squealing with laughter but never forgetting their “PARDON!”. The picnics that consist of juicy nectarines, fleshy tomatoes, delicious figs, unholy but oh so necessary cheeses, the best bread, and of course wine fit for Gods only adds to the sensual sweetness of Paris summers. Scooter rides (Vespa) through the city at night make you feel like you’re living in your own movie. And that’s just in Paris. Head south and your brain is gonna fu*king explode. I know mine did.
The summer wasn’t what I expected but I’m okay with it. My decision to stay in France and discover the country made me appreciate living here even more. And that translated into me realizing that I need to cherish and savor this period of my life. I believe that I am hitting my dinner for one stride in terms of the actual craft of cooking, both emotionally and mentally, and that became apparent to me thanks to a delicious and life-changing summer spent in France.